


Everyday

by wanderlustlover



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-25
Updated: 2001-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byron's view of his world at the beginning of the telepath involvement in season five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyday

**Author's Note:**

> Meandering under the works of the first to vignettes, and the Phoenix Ascendant Arc, I stumbled upon a bunny named Byron. He was a funny sort of fellow whom I'd never really taken a good long look at before. So I sat down to tell part of his side of the story and before I knew it I had "Watching My Willow". With this new introduction and placement of the bunny, he wiggled to sitting closer to me.
> 
> With the Phoenix Ascendant rolling and a new friend helping me explore my ideas about Byron, I realized I'm probably one of the only people that doesn't hate and misplaces Byron in stories always. So when he asked for another short piece after the writing of Intermission I was only too pleased to try and attempt it again. Here is my second take on the funny little bunny named Byron.

Every day I face the cliff. Sometimes with dread, sometimes with joy, even sometimes with no feeling at all.

Every day; every single and solitary day, since Alfred made me fire on those people. It must have started then. It was like being fine and then fatalistic, I changed the entire spectrum of my life in actions that took only four minutes logged on my flight recorder. I had blood on my hands so thick I could almost smell it. All of those people dead because of me. All those stars and candle flames snuffed out in the blink of an eye. A thing I would never be able to forget or over look ever again.

Everyday I go to bed to that cliff. It's so real in my mind that sometimes it transcends how real the world around me actually is by comparison. The cliff is higher than anything I have ever stood upon is. The precipice below goes on with out end tunneling into complete darkness. The air is chilled so much so that it makes my bones ache to even move. The wind is deadly cold and strong enough to almost push me over.

Everyday I sit at the edge of that cliff and stare over into the abyss below me. It wants me. It wants to swallow me whole and leave me with nothing left. No sense of self or memory of life. No beating heart, no breathing chest, no moving limbs. I long to go to it. Longing may be withheld, ignored, noticed, feared, hated, but never lied about. Since the moment I pressed that button I have longed for this abyss below me to come and take me away, to set me free of the stench of blood on my hands.

Every day I remake my vows to these people near me. With my words, my deeds, my thoughts and my dreams. I give them the full and utter truth and they turns eyes to me shining with tears, small smiles, and worried brows. They are the reason I am alive now. The one and only reason. They don't realize this so much, but the abyss is hidden so deep inside me that none of them ever realize it. They are the reason I don't jump. They are the amends I make for pushing that button. They still need me and I can not jump until I am no longer needed and can be set free.

Everyday is filled with trial, with blood, with death, with fear and with hope. They are the last remaining string of my humanity. The last remaining tie I have to my heart still being alive inside of me. I have to believe the words of the song are true or there are days I may just fail in believing enough to make them see that my belief is strong enough for them to rely on me when they don't feel they can go on. We will all come together in a great new place. A great new place free of our sorrows. That our love and our freedom will show us the way. Show everyone.

Everyday it gets harder and the hill is just a little steeper than it was the day before. The stakes keep mounting. The bodies keep piling. The tears keep falling. It's so easy to get depressed. It's so easy to get angry too fast. It's so easy to over react. It's so easy to over step or over plan. All of everything is caused with just a word now, and sometimes not even a word, sometimes just a thought or a nod. We are deadly now. So deadly serious I can't believe they don't understand what we want is peace and not war.

Everyday she comes to us, hesitant and willing. Hesitant and willing to walk into the fire and be burned alive, should this be like every other day of her life. Hesitant and willing to be needed and loved, should we open our arms to her. Hesitant and willing to do anything for us, regardless of whether we offer her anything. Hesitant and willing, she speaks on our behalf to gather medical supplies and support among her peers, knowing that she may simply be casting herself even further into darkness.

Everyday she comes to us, slowly and surely, testing her resolve in each step as she leaves her life behind her and ventures into ours. She comes with this shy smile and these deep brown eyes that could swallow a man whole should he look into them too long. She comes with slow but beautiful laughter and heart willing to soothe the entire world with its love and kindness. She comes for us. She comes for me.

Everyday I look into that abyss troubled and every time I look into her eyes I move a little further away from it. She's there holding out her hand to me. Wanting to know if she's acceptable, if she can be kept, if she is good enough to be loved like all the others here. Not knowing her hand is there pulling me back, saving me, in that selfless gesture, from my own self.

Everyday I realize a small want for her to devour me. I want for myself to be born new her eyes. I want to make her smile and laugh and dance without a care in the world. I realize I wait for her to come to me, wondering if she'll never return, rejoicing when I see her round the door. She is everything and;

Everyday I fall in love with this red headed telepath, this Lyta Alexander, who's been to hell and back a few times judging by the shadows in her eyes and on her heart a little more, a little more than I was the day before.


End file.
